Warmth
by SnoggleSnitch
Summary: He's missed this, missed this exact feeling. Though he tried to fill it, Draco is the only one who could ever possibly fill the void within. Drarry, slash, obviously. We've got a bit of fighting, a bit of breaking up, a bit of getting back together and as always, a bit of sex. Rated M for a reason.


"Just give me a minute, Ron, I'm almost ready, I just can't seem to find that file anywhere." His voice is kind of snappy and he's just about to move over to his file cabinet when the voice behind him makes him freeze.

"Harry," Harry Potter freezes, the voice sending an ice cold shock through his entire body. "Harry, I want to talk." Turning on his heel, Harry faces the doorway to his office and his eyes lock on to a familiar form. Draco Malfoy is standing in the doorway, leaning against the door frame and staring at him with grey eyes.

Harry swallows loudly and shakes his head. "What are you doing here?" The question is sharp and his voice doesn't break, though how, he has no idea. "I can't talk to you right now," _Or ever "_I'm about to be late and I really can't do this right now." He turns quickly away from the door and strides over to his filing cabinet, fumbling to pull open the top drawer.

"Has Hermione given you any of my messages?"

"Yes." He fails to mention that he hasn't read any of them, stuffing them all in a drawer so he doesn't have to look at the slanted writing that adorns the front of each one. Harry is trying very hard to concentrate on finding the file he needs and once he does, he grabs it out, shuts the drawer and turns quickly around. Unfortunately Draco hasn't disappeared so Harry's only option is to stand there, staring at the spot just above Draco's head and clutching the file in his hand.

"So you-," Harry cuts him off with a shake of his head, his eyes finally dropping down to Draco's gaze.

"You haven't read them." Its a statement, not a question, and Harry simply shrugs his shoulders, his Auror robes sliding slightly off of his thin frame.

"You're not eating again and I see you've picked up that nasty habit again," Draco's gaze slides to the crumpled packs of empty cigarette cartons that are littering the side of Harry's cedar desk.

Harry sighs and rubs his forehead with his free hand, trying to stave off the migraine that he can feel trying to work its way in. "You've always been very good at pointing out the obvious, Draco, but I don't exactly have time for this today. I have a meeting with the Minister in less than half an hour and-,"

Draco steps forward and reaches his hands out, stopping inches from the front of Harry robes. "Harry, please, let me explain."

Harry turns his head and bites the inside of his cheek, clenching his fists and almost crumpling the file that he worked so hard to find. "Explain what, Draco? Why you left? Why there wasn't ever a conversation, wasn't even ever a fucking _letter? _Until two weeks ago, that is. I don't care. I don't want to know because honestly, it doesn't matter anymore. It just doesn't matter." Draco's hands drop back down to his sides and his face almost seems to fall but Harry doesn't care. "I really need to go."

Draco steps back and away from him and Harry sweeps past, their arms barely brushing on his way out.

xXx

He managed to keep it together through the whole meeting, only stumbling over his words once or twice. "Good job mate, it looks like by the end of the month we'll have new security measures to work with." Ron claps him on the shoulder and Harry manages a weak smile. "Looks like it. I'm going to dip outside, keep an eye out for owls for me, will you?" Ron nods and Harry slides past him and out the side door, already fumbling for the pack and lighter in his pocket.

xXx

'_Dammit Draco_.' He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the brick of the building and takes a long pull from his cigarette, unwanted scenes playing out on the back of his eyelids.

_Six months earlier_

"Draco, what are you talking about?" Harry sets down his briefcase next to the kitchen table and takes off his coat, trying to make sense of the words that Draco had just said.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I can't do this. I can't. Its too much, its too hard, theres too much..." He trails off and runs a hand through his sliver-blonde hair, biting his lower lip and refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"I don't understand." Harry pulls out a chair at the kitchen table and sits down heavily, his confused emerald eyes trying to catch Draco's grey ones.

"You don't need to. I'm going to go stay at the Manor for a while, I'll come back and collect my things later." The words are harsh and unforgiving and Harry still can't seem to comprehend them as Draco gathers his coat and steps in to the fire, yelling out '_Malfoy Manor!_' and disappearing in a cloud of green dust.

The next few weeks are hell, full of sleepless nights and endless days and Harry stops looking for reasons why Draco left and starts picking apart himself, seam by seam. It starts with the food; he'd had a hell of a time eating after the War, the visions of blood and gore haunting him everywhere, turning his stomach and slowly turning his body into a thin shadow of what it used to be. He couldn't even manage to escape in his dreams. It wasn't until Draco that the hollows under his eyes had started to fade and food had become more than just a battle that he had with himself every day. It didn't seem to matter anymore though and eating just took too much time and too much effort. The cigarettes helped stave off his hunger and sometimes managed to stop the shaking of his hands. Then there were the men, more men then Harry cares to admit. Men that would pay to say they slept with the Hero of the Wizarding World and frankly, Harry doesn't care who they run their mouths off to. Who's going to believe them? Besides, all they are are rough fucks in alley ways, just enough to take off the edge of the sting of words that Draco left in his wake. Hermione and Ron don't ask and Harry isn't even sure if they know but he's almost not sure he'd care if they did.

Draco's things slowly start to disappear from their flat and Harry has to assume that he's coming and removing things while he's at work. His assumptions are confirmed when he comes home late one night after work and finds Draco's key on the kitchen table. The gold key stares at him accusingly from where it sits on the edge of the table and he really can't stand to look at it. He does a pretty good job of getting completely drunk that night and has no idea who the man is in his bed when he's finally sober enough to open his eyes the next morning.

He sees Draco one day, getting coffee at the shop around the corner. He turns on his heel and heads back out the door before Draco even turns around. His heart thuds against his chest all the way to his office and once he's behind the closed door, he collapses into his chair, his body shaking from head to toe.

His work never suffers as he's spending more time than ever at the office, his flat too much of a harsh reminder of what once was. He returns home too late at night to pay much attention to anything and empty cartons of cigarettes begin to gather on the bed, the one that he hasn't really been able to sleep in since Draco left. He hasn't really been able to sleep at all, but really, who's asking? He develops a brand new set of security measures for work in the hours of the wee morning on the week after Draco left, slaving over it for the next 5 and a half months, making sure it consumes his thoughts and numbs his mind any time he's left to his own devices. The only good that ever came from being left alone with his thoughts is that damn file, yet when its done, Harry curses Draco. He's once again left with thoughts and ghosts of what used to be and he's not sure if he can escape them anymore.

_Present_

Harry grunts and scrubs a hand over his face, eyes popping open at the sound of the door opening. Hermione pokes her head out of the opening and strides out when she sees Harry. "Did Draco come and see you this morning?" He grunts again and Hermione scowls at him. "Harry, have you read any of the letters I've given you?" He sheepishly shakes his head and Hermione narrows her eyes.

"I can't, 'Mione. I just can't. I don't want to hear the apologizes, I don't want to hear the reasons. It hurts and I can't make it stop but that doesn't mean that I have to listen to his sorry excuses." He's hugging himself with thin arms, his cigarette long since burnt out.

Hermione visibly softens and she steps closer, laying a hand against his cold cheek. "Do me a favor, Harry James Potter. Give him a chance, just one. Listen to what he has to say. If you still want to hex him after that, I'll tell anyone who asks that I have no idea what happened. But just listen. Please." She's gone in a whoosh of perfume and cold air and Harry can only scowl in her wake, knowing damn well that when it comes to Draco, he'll break eventually.

xXx

Its 7pm the next night and Harry's sitting at the kitchen table, head in his hands, when the floo roars to life. A familiar hand lands on his shoulder and it takes everything in him not to tense and flinch away. "I'll listen, thats all I can say. I'm not promising anything and I sure as hell am not saying that I'll understand." His voice is raspy and he has to clear his throat before looking up at that face that he's seen the few times he's managed to sleep in the last 6 months.

The chair across from him scrapes the floor as Draco slides it out and Harry winces at the sound, nervously tapping his fingers against his knee. The flat feels more cramped than it has in ages and Draco's presence is making him slightly jumpy.

"Harry, I...I'm not even really sure what to say. I don't know even know where to begin." Draco is nervously picking at his fingernails and Harry is determined not to say anything, not to give him any free passes. He continues to tap his fingers against his knee and its probably a full 10 minutes before Draco speaks again. "What I did...the things I said, I never meant any of it." Harry can't help but glance up, can't help but notice the way Draco's hair is curling around his collar. His hands itch to touch it and it is the hardest thing he has done since defeating Voldemort when he has to restrain himself. He manages to keep his face impassive and tries to focus his attention on the words Draco is saying, not the pull he feels from just sitting across the table from him. "I don't...I made a mistake. Leaving you and doing what I did were the worst mistakes of my entire life." Harry blinks and sits back, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

"You still haven't told me why." His words are full of more emotion than he has shown in months and he has to clear his throat a few times before he can swallow properly. Draco sighs and begins picking at his nails again, a nervous habit that Harry had tried so hard to break him of.

"I don't know! I wish I could say that I fell out of love with you, that I didn't want you anymore, but none of that's true." His first few words are like a punch to Harry's gut and he winces, trying to keep himself together. Tiny pinpricks of blood are forming on Draco's finger and Harry reaches out and grabs his other hand, stopping the vicious onslaught that Draco is wrecking on himself. Draco stills and almost stops breathing. He hadn't admitted to himself just how much he missed Harry until a night two weeks ago and he definitely hadn't admitted how much he missed his touch. As soon as Harry touches him theres a spark and both men draw in sharp intakes of breath. Draco has to remind himself to breathe and Harry blinks, trying to clear the haze that fell over him as soon as he touched Draco's skin. Clearing his throat, Draco begins to speak again, his hand still clutched in Harry's.

"It's not true and as much as I wish it was, I'm so damn glad that it isn't. Everything was getting to me; little things that honestly shouldn't have even made the slightest difference in our relationship. But they began to. All the publicity, the magazine articles, the interviews, the damn reporters that managed to find us at every public gathering we went to. It felt like everyone was scrutinizing me, scheming on ways to break us up, to ruin the only good thing that I'd ever had in my life. The reality of it is that I managed to ruin it all by myself. I got caught up in it all and I let things matter to me that shouldn't have. And the worst part of all of this is that I hurt you. I let my insecurities get to me and I said things that I never meant, just to hurt you. I'm so sorry Harry, I'm so fucking sorry." The words are all said in one giant rush and Harry's hand tightens on Draco's as his throat constricts and his eyes begin to water.

"It hurt Draco, it hurt so fucking bad. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever block out the pain. You were my entire world and then I had nothing. I lost so many things in the War, including myself. You are the only thing that brought me back, the only thing that ever made sense to me. And then all the sudden nothing made sense and I was left to deal with the reality of things by myself."

Draco nods and he leans forward, catching a tear that is sliding down Harry's cheek on his thumb. "I know and I'm so sorry, love."

His voice is hushed and his hand in Harry's is warm. No ones warmth but Draco's has ever seemed to penetrate the coldness that Harry's felt since so many people gave up their lives to save him. He had tried so hard to find someone else who could, but no one ever did. All those men in the alley ways, they only managed to block the flow of emotions because no one ever got him like Draco did. Each time he failed it had hurt more, so he'd try again and again. But this warmth, this touch right here, is the only thing that would ever warm Harry. Draco tugs on his hand and Harry is torn out of his thoughts and back to the present, his eyes locking with Draco's. "Harry, I love you. I've never stopped loving you. I don't know what to do to make this better, just tell me what to do. I'll do anything, anything at all."

Harry sighs and for the first time since the day that Draco left he feels like he can breathe. The weight that had taken up residence on his chest, the weight that Draco's words had left, seems to dissipate and he drops Draco's hand and grips his face between both of his hands. "Love me. That's it." Before Draco can even react Harry's chapped lips are crashing down on to his and it feels like he's alive again. Fire burns through his veins and he groans, reaching up both hands to tangle in jet black locks. Harry lets go when his lungs begin to burn and he gasps as he leans his forehead against Draco's. "I need you. I need you so fucking much." The words are breathy and Draco groans again at the want and need in Harry's voice. He stands up and grabs Harry, wincing at how thin he feels beneath the fabric of his clothes.

"You have got to start eating again, Harry,"

A groan escapes Harry's lips and he nods. "Anything, Draco, anything. Just pleas-" He's cut off by Draco's lips once again on his own and he's pulled roughly against a muscle-toned chest. The two stumble backwards towards the bed and a months worth of cigarette cartons are roughly cleared off before they collapse on top of it, both men groaning at the sudden closeness of their groins. Harry gasps and bucks up as Draco locks his mouth on to the sharpness of Harry's collar bone, sucking and marking him as his own.

Harry has always been the dominate type in bed but this time he feels a need to be owned, a need to have Draco apologize to him with his body and make him feel like he belongs again. Harry is roughly pulled up and stripped of his shirt, Draco throwing it to some section of the room. Once pushed back down, Draco covers his body with his own, sliding down his chest and kissing and nipping at the skin as he goes. By the time he reaches his belly button, Harry is breathless and writhing under him, sensations rolling through his body that he feels like he hasn't felt in years. With deft fingers, Draco undoes the button on his jeans, tutting at the hip bones jutting out harshly from Harry's body. "Draco...need you...please." The words are breathless and Harry's entire body is quivering. Draco can't help but glance up at Harry, his eyes needing to see the sight before him.

He never realized just how much Harry meant to him until he left. The last 6 months had been the worst of his life, he'd been more miserable than when Voldemort had been living at the Manor. His mother had gotten so sick of his whining and moping about that she had began to send house elves in to deal with him. _House elves! _He'd tried desperately to get Harry to speak to him, pleading with him through letters to just hear him out, give him 5 minutes, just 5, to let him explain. It wasn't until his mother started sending the house elves that he knew he had to take more drastic measures. And now, here he was, back in Harry's bed and back with the man that he never even knew he needed.

Shaking his head and coming back to the present, he glances down once more at the man underneath him. Harry's head is thrown back and his thin chest that once was as muscled as Draco's own, is rising and falling with harsh breaths. His dark hair is sticking up around his head and some is covering his eyes, those gorgeous emerald eyes that Draco dreamt about every damn night. He swallows thickly and leans down to pull off Harry's trousers, breath catching in his throat when he sees that he isn't wearing anything underneath. The first time they had sex, Draco had been amazed at Harry's girth, now it just made his body sing with want. Jutting out from between dark curls, Harry's prick is dripping pre-come and the tip is glistening in the moonlight streaming in through the open window. "Oh Merlin," Draco groans and quickly divests himself of his clothes, letting his boxers drop to the floor.

Harry glances at him through half-lidded eyes and becomes impossibly harder at the sight of Draco's naked form. Reaching up and brushing hair out of his eyes, he pushes himself up on his elbows and stares at Draco intently. "I want you. I need this. I've missed you so fucking much, I've barely been able to stand it. Draco, please." At this Harry spreads his legs, offering himself to Draco and locking emerald eyes with grey ones. Draco swallows thickly again, nodding his head and moving forward to kneel on the bed, leaning in between Harry's thighs. With a muttered spell his fingers are slick and he's reaching forward to breach Harry's most intimate area. As he pushes a finger through the tight ring of muscle, Harry throws his head back again and lets out a loud groan, the sound sending chills down Draco's spine. Harry's body is much more willing then Draco expected it to be and as he adds a second finger, Harry begins to incoherently beg. Words are tumbling out of his mouth that Draco doubts he even knows he's saying. "Unnff...ughhh...Drac-" Harry's sentence is cut short when Draco hits that magical nub inside him and his words turn into a silent scream. A smile crosses Draco's face and he removes his fingers, licking his lips and lining up his prick with Harry's pink and willing hole.

He thrusts once, slowly, edging in inch by deliciously tight inch. Once he's fully seated he stills and waits for Harry to give him an indication that he's ready. Harry doesn't pause, doesn't even wait. He jerks his hips up and wraps his legs around Draco's back, groaning at the feeling of being full and the burn of being stretched. He's missed this, missed this exact feeling. Though he tried to fill it, Draco is the only one who could ever possibly fill the void within.

Draco chokes on a whimper and snaps his hips up, falling forward and catching himself on his arms, staring into Harry's eyes as he thrusts again. "I'm so sorry, Harry, so sorry." He has no idea how he could have ever possibly given this up, but at the moment it doesn't matter because all he feels is Harry and its so _good._

"Mmmm," Harry's response is muffled and as Draco begins to thrust faster and harder, Harry begins to stroke himself. Draco watches in fascination as Harry pulls on his prick, the head, an angry purple color, disappearing in his fist as he strokes in time with Draco's thrusts. The sight of Harry touching himself as Draco buries himself in his arse is enough to send him over the edge. With a cry he's coming inside Harry, his vision going white. Draco barely registers the fact that his stomach and chest are being covered in warm, wet fluid, before he collapses heavily on top of Harry. Harry is breathing fast and hard and he struggles to get his arms out from under Draco, wrapping them around the warm body on top of him once he manages to free them. Kissing the top of Draco's head he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, the first sleep he's had, it seems, in ages.

xXx

Its three hours later, though it could have been three years later, neither man would have cared. Harry slowly opens his eyes and begins to register that there is a warm arm wrapped around his waist. It takes a few moments for events to come back to him, but once they do, he groans and snuggles into the embrace, hoping to Merlin that this isn't some sort of wonderful dream. Draco stirs and mumbles, pulling Harry impossibly tighter to his chest before slowly, very slowly, opening his eyes. A shock of jet black hair greets his eyes and he breathes in harshly, gripping Harry's hip as if his life depended on it.

"Draco?" Theres a question in Harry's voice, almost as if he's expecting him to jump out of bed, explain that this had all been some sort of horrible mistake and vanish once again. Draco can't really blame him.

"Mmmm, Harry," His voice is breathy and raspy and if this had been a year ago he would have died before he let Harry hear him like that. None of it seemed to matter now; he'd been stripped bare before Harry, all of his feelings and emotions had been thrown into the light and it didn't matter.

All of the air seemed to rush back into Harry's lungs and he turned over in Draco's embrace, pushing his face against Draco's own.

"Don't leave me again. I swear to Gods, Draco, if you ever do anything as stupid as the last 6 months have been again, I will hex your balls off. Hermione already offered to cover for me." Draco couldn't help but grin at the statement; he had no doubt that Granger-Weasley had offered such a thing. Hell, he'd probably have done it to himself if Harry had asked him to. Shaking his head he stretched his neck up and kissed Harry's nose. "Never again. Though if spectacular fights like that lead to me being able to top, I'd say we have to fight more often."

Harry rolled his eyes and tucked his head under Draco's chin, inhaling the scent that is so very Draco. For the first time in months Harry feels warm again, and its not a feeling that he's willing to let go of any time soon.


End file.
